


I Am Your Mirror

by Sethie



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 07:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19786105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sethie/pseuds/Sethie
Summary: Nattie knows that her friend is hiding something from her.





	I Am Your Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for my inactivity. I’ve been dealing with a lot lately. I decided to try out something a little different this time, so the style isn’t my usual. It's been a while since I've written so please excuse my fic if it shows that!! I'm still trying to get back into this, so this is a take on small Brock x Reader relationship things rather than a full blown smut or fluff fic.
> 
> I wanted to focus more on writing from the perspective of someone who wasn’t the reader or their lover, but someone who could still view their relationship through their eyes, if that makes sense. I know most of y’all don’t like Brock, but hopefully you can enjoy this nonetheless. I think he’s very fun to write relationships around considering his unique yet simple personality. Thanks for reading, much love x
> 
> \+ I would like to wish a big happy birthday to my (shared) Canadian-American Mr. Money in the Bank husband. Congrats on reaching the big 4-2 and I wish you many more! Have a steak, enjoy life, and continue to earn millions. xo

Nattie has been called ‘nosy’ all of her life, but she doesn’t agree with the typical connotation with which the term is assigned to her with— she thinks that she’s more-so considered to be a ‘nosy’ person simply because she cares a lot about her friends and family, and that’s not something she considers to be a bad thing.

Personally, she prefers to call herself _concerned_.

Nonetheless, regardless of what she is or isn’t, _concerned_ is the topic currently burning on her mind as she heads out of the locker room.

There’s one friend in particular that she’s been concerned about for quite some time now— but she has yet to figure out what kind of concern she needs to assign to her friend’s situation. Something Nattie takes into consideration is that this particular friend isn’t just another one of the girls— she’s one of her very best friends, so it makes her situation all the more urgent to Nattie.

Nattie’s concern first originated from the fact that her friend arrived to RAW in Georgia one night in her usual well-kept, attractive white sedan, but she noticed that the sedan she was driving had now seemingly upgraded to thick, black snow tires, which seemed odd, considering that her friend lived in Florida as she also did.

“New tires?” Nattie asked with a smile and a forced laugh as her friend got out of her car, and her friend simply gave her a soft smile and pulled her luggage out of the backseat. “I know we travel a lot, but do you really need them on when we’re living in Florida? Couldn’t you just rent a winterized car like I always do when I need to travel?”

“Yep,” She replied in a small voice, holding together two gloved hands, and that was when Nattie knew that something was _really_ wrong— aside from the fact that she was wearing gloves and a winter coat in relatively mild weather, her friend didn’t have her phone in her hand as she always did. “I just got them last week. I love them.”

“So, why did you get the tires?” Nattie asked, deciding to leave the topic of her missing phone alone. “And what’s with the gloves?”

“Oh, you know how I like to go up to Grove Park Inn sometimes? That’s why. These just make it so much easier, you know? And the gloves— well, it’s chilly out.” Her friend answered, and Nattie had (foolishly) bought her answer, and simply followed her into the building with a smile and a nod.

“I know.”

-

The second red flag came when Nattie noticed again the next day that her friend seemed to have zero interest in her phone; she could tell because her friend wasn’t answering any of her texts or calls in a timely manner as she usually did, and it worried her.

“Hey!” Nattie had practically chased down her friend in the locker room, and her friend looked over at her with a small smile as she fiddled with the combination on her locker.

“Hi, Nattie. How are you?”

“Did you lose your phone or something? You haven’t been answering my texts or calls,” Nattie asked, keeping her tone deliberately light as she stood with her hands on her hips. “I just wanted to make sure that everything was all right.”

“Oh, no,” Her friend turned toward her and offered her an apologetic look as she began to pack up her camouflage-printed duffel bag. “I’m sorry, I just haven’t been paying much attention to my phone recently. I never realized... well, I just realized a while back how much time I was wasting on my phone so I decided not to pay much mind to it throughout the day anymore. But I’ll try to answer you more often.”

_Pay much mind to it?_ Red flag number three sprung up in Nattie’s mind as she realized how differently her friend was speaking— her friend had never used a phrase like that before. But Nattie also recognized that change was a normal part of human behavior, so she tried not to dwell on it too much.

“Oh, okay,” Nattie said as if it were no big deal, putting her sneakers in her locker and then shutting the door. “It’s fine, I’m just glad you didn’t lose it or anything.”

Her friend continued packing up her suitcase without another word, but Nattie still wasn’t satisfied with the result of the entire situation, and so she simply couldn’t drop it.

“Out of curiosity, what made you realize how much time you were wasting on it? Maybe I should do something like that. TJ says I’m on it all day, but I don’t think that’s true.” Nattie engaged her friend once more, hoping to get _something_ more telling out of her.

“Oh, I—, um,” Her friend slightly stumbled over her words, and as soon as her cheeks began to flush red, Nattie knew that she was _in_. “I got one of those activity report things, like when they tell you how many hours you spend on your phone in a week, so it was kinda embarrassing to see how much I was on it. I don’t want to waste so much of my time like that.”

“Uh-huh,” Nattie said, clearly not convinced, but she didn’t know what else the explanation for her friend’s behavior could be, so she had no choice but to leave it alone. At least she was one step closer— or was she?

“I’ve got to go,” Her friend said, seeming to be in a hurry as she raised the handle up on her suitcase and took it into her grip. “But I’ll catch you next week, okay?”

“Okay,” Nattie said, and before she could add a ‘goodbye’, her friend had already left, leaving the door swinging behind her and leaving Nattie’s eyebrows raised.

-

The next Monday night, Nattie had a match on RAW with her friend. All was going well until Nattie attempted a traditional suplex on her friend— as she lifted her over, she realized how much heavier her friend seemed, and before she knew it, her friend landed heavily on the mat with an almost ungraceful thud, which was terribly out of character for her. Her friend didn’t normally make a lift like that difficult, but she seemed to be dead weight this time around.

“You okay?” Nattie whispered as she wrapped her arms around her friend’s neck, attempting to hold her in a loose chokehold. She allowed her hair to fall over her front, hiding their faces from the camera for a few moments.

“Yeah, sorry,” Her friend replied breathily, feigning an attempt to fight out of it. “I was thinking about something else; I missed your signal.”

They didn’t speak again after that, but the entire match seemed off from start to finish, leading Nattie to have an uncomfortable conversation with her later on in the night.

-

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Nattie asked carefully as her friend brushed out her hair in the locker room.

“I’m good,” Her friend answered, but Nattie swore that she could still tell that she’d had the breath knocked out of her. “Just tired.”

“You seemed—“ Nattie began to speak, and then she stopped, remembering what her marriage counselor had told her— ‘always use ‘I’ language before ‘you’’. “Well, I think I underprepared for my lift.”

“No, you didn’t,” Much to her relief, and true to her character, her friend laughed and didn’t allow her to take the blame as she unlaced her sneakers. “I’ve gotten fatter, and I forgot about it, so I didn’t lift up as much to make it easy for you. I’m sorry.”

“You’re not fat,” Nattie said in a tone of protest, but her friend just held her hands up in resignation.

“It’s okay, Nattie. I’m not fat, but I’ve definitely fattened _up_ ,” She laughed again, and Nattie forced an uncomfortable laugh along with her. “Really, though, I’m fine. It’s just winter weight. I’ve just got to work around it better.”

“What the heck is winter weight?” Nattie asked, laughing as she put her hands on her hips to mask her frustration of the now reoccurring mystery of her friend’s snow tires and this newfound winter weight claim. “We live in Florida.”

Her friend simply gave a tired smile to Nattie without offering her another word of explanation, and while that was the end of their conversation, it was not the end of Nattie’s worries.

-

Her friend, who was always so happy to see the snow, was not fazed a bit by it as she walked into the Connecticut diner.

“Hey,” Nattie stood up to hug her friend, who was donned oddly in Uggs, leggings, and a thick coat— while the outfit was fitting for the weather, it was not fitting for her usual self. “You don’t usually wear Uggs. In fact, you hate Uggs.”

“Anything else you want to question me about?” Her friend laughed, sitting down at their small high-top table. “I’ve just been changing up stuff. The same old gets boring after a while, you know?”

“I feel like I hardly ever see you anymore,” Nattie confessed, a more serious tone creeping into her voice. “So I just wanted to meet up with you today. Maybe we can catch up a bit.”

Her friend flashed her a bright smile, and Nattie swore that there was a happiness in her friend’s eyes that she had never seen there before.

“Of course.”

“So, why the Uggs?” Nattie pressed, and her friend simply smiled in response.

“Because it’s snowin’,” She said, and Nattie almost gasped. “Duh.”

“Why are you speaking with that accent?” Nattie was so confused that she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “That’s not your Floridian accent. Did you move somewhere? Have you been living somewhere else without telling me?”

“Nattie, look,” Her friend laughed, taking a sip of her water. “I will tell you... _all_ of the things... when I am ready, okay?”

Nattie knew what that most likely meant—her friend was indeed living with someone else, which would mean that she was in a serious relationship. But who would her friend really be that serious with?

“Okay,” Nattie held up her hands in resignation, not wanting to push the topic further, and sighed. “You should know by now that I don’t like waiting, though.”

-

There had been a major absence of a certain color in her friend’s wardrobe recently— the color red.

Nattie knew her friend well, and she knew that her friend liked to wear red.

Red was _hot_ , according to her friend. It got people’s attention.

So why wasn’t she wearing it anymore?

“I haven’t seen you wear red in a while,” Nattie mused as her friend tried on clothes in the dressing room of their favorite boutique. “I thought you liked red.”

“I do like red,” Her friend opened the door and did a twirl, showing off her flowy dress to Nattie. “How does this look?”

“It looks very... purple.” Nattie said flatly.

Her friend rolled her eyes, and shut the door of the dressing room.

“It is cute, though,” Nattie added half-heartedly. “So, why don’t you wear red anymore?”

“Like I said before, just trying out new things.” Her friend answered, voice sounding softer through the closed door, and Nattie knew that her friend was lying to her yet again, and she was getting quite tired of it— but what more was there for her to say? She didn’t want to start a fight between them, and as her friend had said, she would tell her when she was ready, so waiting was seemingly the only option left for Nattie.

Nattie decided that she’d wear something red the next day in honor of her friend’s old personality.

-

Another odd thing that Nattie noticed about her friend was once more how happy she looked when she walked into the bar— but then again, everything about her friend had been weird recently, hadn’t it?

Her eyes were aglow with warmth, and there was a slight spring in her step that Nattie had not noticed in the days prior.

In a way, her friend almost seemed... _bouncy_ and full of energy and life, and that reminded Nattie strongly of someone else that she knew, but she couldn’t pinpoint who that person was.

“Good evening,” Her friend greeted Nikki and Brie, and then she turned to Nattie, who sat happily in a barstool donned in a red minidress. “Hi, Nattie. Nice to see you again.”

“Good evening?” Nikki Bella mocked her with a laugh, but it was all in jest. “What are we, in the Victorian era?”

Brie cringed at Nikki’s odd joke, but it didn’t seem to faze her friend as she took a sip of her water that Nattie had kindly ordered for her before her arrival.

“How is life?” Nikki asked openly, and Nattie decided to stay quiet as Brie answered Nikki’s question, leading the two to have an open but separate conversation.

They seemed to want to drag in their friend to their conversation, but she wasn’t having much of it— her eyes were looking elsewhere.

She was watching the men’s Money in the Bank ladder match on the bar’s television with a soft smile, and Nattie swore that her friend appeared to know something about the match that the rest of them didn’t. In a way, she just seemed _knowing_.

“You aren’t usually interested in the men’s matches,” Nattie mused quietly to her friend, and thankfully, Nikki and Brie were too busy talking to overhear her remark.

Her friend shrugged, not taking her eyes off of the match.

Nattie looked quickly at the match, and her observation of the men participating didn’t tell her much— mentally considering each man she saw, she didn’t see her friend being interested in Ali, Randy, Finn, Andrade, Baron, Drew, or Ricochet, which threw out her theory of her friend having a secret relationship that was behind all of the changes she’d noticed in her friend.

So, she was essentially back to square one.

“I’m still not all that interested, but I’d like to see who will win.” Her friend’s late response brought Nattie out of her thoughts, and Nattie acknowledged her friend’s answer with a nod.

But Nattie wasn’t able to see her friend’s reaction to the person who won, because her husband called her, telling her that TwoPawz had fallen down with a cold, so Nattie excused herself early from the group to go be with her baby, and the night became nothing more than an afterthought.

-

Her friend had not heard her when Nattie had called out to her, but Nattie didn’t need to talk to her anymore.

Instead, she needed to do some research.

Her friend had been walking down the hallway at a brisk pace, and in her left hand she wasn’t holding a purse, nor a phone, nor a pair of earrings— instead, she was carrying a large pair of black gloves with white writing on them.

Unfortunately for Nattie, she hadn’t been able to make out the writing in time when her friend disappeared around the corner of the hallway, nor could she recall any letters or other identifying marks on the gloves.

Nattie _knew_ those gloves from somewhere, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it as to where she recognized them from. They were so large that she knew the owner of them had to have uniquely large hands, but who was that that she knew of?

Hundreds of potential faces flashed in her mind, but deep down, she knew that none of them were the owner of the mysterious gloves.

Frustrated not only with the situation at hand, but with the entire span of issues that had occurred over the past few months, Nattie sighed, placing her hands on her hips as she came to a stop in the hallway.

“Hey, Nat,” Nattie spun around as soon as she heard her husband’s voice. “What are you up to?”

“I’m—“ Nattie began to speak, and then she sighed, looking up at Tyson helplessly. “Look, Teej, I don’t know what to do.”

“About what?”

“Well, I saw my friend carrying gloves off somewhere.”

“And?” Tyson laughed, giving her a ‘so-what?’ look as he placed his hand on her shoulder.

“And... they aren’t hers. Well, you know what? Nothing is hers anymore, TJ! She has snow tires now, and she wears Uggs, and she carries stupidly large gloves, and she’s just so different...” Nattie said, close to tears from living in a state of constant exasperation and wonder. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I know.”

“What do you mean, you know?”

“I know about them, Nat. Don’t you?” TJ came to stand in front of her, a look of disbelief on his face.

“ _Them?_ ” Nattie echoed. “TJ, tell me!”

“Know where else you’ve seen those gloves?” Tyson asked, lips curling upward in a smile.

“No, Teej, please just tell me.” If Nattie were being honest, she really didn’t even bother to think about them any longer, but that was only because she had exhausted her options beforehand.

TJ leaned down, and whispered into her ear,

“On our current Mr. Money in the Bank champion.”

And just like that, he walked away, leaving Nattie feeling truly stunned.

-

All was right in Nattie’s world once she identified the cause of all of the signs of difference that she had recognized in her friend.

Her friend not only was perfectly fine, but she was also clearly very, _very_ happy with her new relationship.

She was dating someone, and she was dating someone very special, at that.

Nattie had figured it out the second TJ had identified the source of the gloves— as soon as he’d said the phrase ‘money in the bank’, Nattie knew exactly who he was talking about:

Brock Lesnar.

And so it all began to make sense—later on that night Nattie had then understood why the bar night had occurred in the way that it did, and then everything else fell together like pieces of a perfect puzzle.

Her friend’s snow tires and new accent came from the fact that she was now living with him up in Minnesota, her lack of interest in her phone was due to her hanging out with such a social media-hating man, and most of all, her overall increase in happiness came from her newfound love in Lesnar.

TJ had explained later to her that Lesnar was red-green colorblind, a fact that apparently everyone but Nattie knew, which explained her friend’s disinterest in what was once formerly one of her favorite colors to wear.

Her weight gain was something that Nattie had an answer for instead of TJ this time— while that change had befuddled TJ, Nattie knew exactly how it worked. When a girl was in a happy relationship, she tended to gain weight— after all, Nattie had done the same in her relationship with TJ.

And now, Nattie stands quietly around a corner as she watches Brock Lesnar and her friend talk to each other backstage, Brock’s large hands gently reaching out to hold her waist for just a moment as he says something to her, and then her friend’s smaller hands reaching out to squeeze his wrists as they fall back to his sides, and she finds herself thinking that she must admit that they are quite cute together.

Her friend does a twirl in her purple dress for him, and Brock says something about the color of it, and Nattie swears that she can see her friend beaming up to the heavens at his comment.

As Brock fastens his gloves on each of his huge hands, Nattie’s friend babbles on about something, and Nattie can’t help but to smile at the way he’s smiling and so patiently listening to her friend.

Nattie doesn’t think she’s ever seen Brock Lesnar appear so mellow and happy in his life.

“You know how when people love each other they start to mirror each other?” Tyson’s voice surprises Nattie as he approaches her from behind, but she doesn’t jump.

And it is when Nattie sees the usually-quiet and solemn-looking Brock and her friend both chattering away, both mirroring each other with their hands on their hips and matching smiles on their faces and love reflecting in each other’s eyes, that she finally understands— _everything_.

“Yeah, I do.”


End file.
